


Interesting Reaction, or Why I Should Not Be Allowed To Write Fanfic

by TheLilacPilgrim



Category: tumblr rp - Fandom
Genre: I Blame Tumblr, NSFW, Sexual Content, i'm so sorry marvel/avengers/iron man fandom please ignore this, my rp partner put me up to this i just, name's the same, pan universal travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 16:35:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1556993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLilacPilgrim/pseuds/TheLilacPilgrim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pan-universal traveller Dr. Jonathan Crane (yes, we're aware his name is quite unfortunate) winds up in the bedroom of a certain Tony Stark, who reacts way better than Jonathan is used to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interesting Reaction, or Why I Should Not Be Allowed To Write Fanfic

**Author's Note:**

> I fully blame my rp partner for this story. Basically it all came from that time RDJ was on Graham Norton's show with Ed Byrne, who is the fc for my rp character over on tumblr (notthescarecrow).

Jonathan had to admit. All of the universes he’d ever shown up in…  _this_  was the most unique reaction. Tony Stark -  _the_ Tony Stark, Iron Man, that guy - had happened upon the lost psychiatrist dressed in his finest suit and sprawled in confusion across the plush bed and logically came to the conclusion that he must have dropped in for a very good reason. One quip led to another and before Jonathan knew it he was naked, and completely at Stark’s mercy. How had he let this happen…?

"Do you do this often?" the psychiatrist gasped out, the other’s skilled hands tracing lines over pale skin that made him burn with desire, caused his legs to tremble. Tony quirked an eyebrow.

"What? Make people achieve complete bliss? Every day."  Despite himself Jonathan laughed, and made a move to pull the billionaire playboy close. Which worked, because it caught him by surprise, and he fell right on top of the Irishman with a gasp. Didn’t seem to hurt matters, though.

“ _You_  are so incredibly frustrating,” he said, though his smile betrayed his amused state.

“ _You_  are easily frustrated,” came the quick response, trying to be nonchalant, disinterested, but the hitch of his breath and the feel of his heartbeat against Jonathan’s searching hand gave his arousal away.

That the psychiatrist could feel it through the pants Stark was still wearing helped a little, too.

Taking the initiative to move forward, Jon began unbuttoning and unzipping the pants Tony wore, not even bothering with the shirt.

"Hey, whoa, whoa!" Stark protested, but his attempts to stop the undressing were feeble, almost as if he actually  _wanted_  to fuck the stranger he’d known for thirty minutes tops.  ~~That is, known him for at most thirty minutes, not known immediately that the psychiatrist had a bizarre preference.~~  He elected to help out, removing his shirt and discarding it. “Slow down, buddy; is something on fire?”

With a needy growl, Jon quite seriously looked up through steely-blue eyes and murmured. “Yeah. Me. Don’t fucking tease me; I’ve travelled a long distance.” 

"Oh, a doctor without patience; there’s a joke in there somewhere…"

Another surprise came in the form of being flipped onto his back by the scrawny pan-universal traveller, and it was clear that the inventor was actually intrigued by the sudden aggression. Jonathan himself would have been impressed if he could think beyond the need flooding his body and the fact that  _Iron fucking Man_ had initiated proceedings.

How often did people in his own universe have the opportunity to fuck Iron Man?

Though he appreciated that the excitement was a little dampened in this universe.

"You promised something way more mind blowing than dimensional travel," he reminded the other, releasing Stark’s cock from the confinement of his underwear and giving it a sharp tug, eliciting a ‘hey; watch the goods’. "Yet to see it. You’re being quite disappointing, actually. I’ve had hallucinations more intense than you."

"Are we really doing this?" Stark said incredulously, or as incredulously as he could manage through the strangled whimpers, the psychiatrist roughly sliding just his fingertips along the length of his cock. "Are we having a sex fight? Oh my God. Like you could win against  _me_  in a sex fight. Fuck you.”

"I wish you fucking would!" Jonathan snarled into Tony’s ear, and found himself flipped back onto the bed, and within less than a minute the inventor had him pinned down so he couldn’t move. He felt hot breath against his neck, and Stark pressed soft lips against it, he felt tongue and teeth and suction, every scrape that brought his skin between the other’s teeth and every satisfyingly slick tongue movement set his nerves aflame and he began to ache for more. Trembling hands raked through dark hair and over strong muscles as hips ground against hips,the head of Tony’s cock teasing along Jonathan’s perineum. " _Yessss_ , oh  _God_  I surrender.”

"Try explaining  _that_  one to your buddies back home,” Stark said smugly, and defiant blue eyes smirked right back.

"I’ll just tell ‘em a desperate whore did it. I’d still be telling the truth."   Oh,  _that_ was how this got started, he remembered now. Neither man could back away from a challenge.

"Me _ow_ ,” was the response as he wrapped strong arms around the psychiatrist and pulled him into a sitting position. Jonathan heard the sound of a drawer being opened, the rummaging for stuff inside while the genius playboy swore frantically. It might have been comical if his dick wasn’t aching and if he were able to buck against the other while he looked for lube and condoms. He found it hard to believe that Tony Stark couldn’t find these items quickly in his own bedroom. It seemed like it took an age but he finally pressed the items into Jonathan’s back as he lifted him off, pushing him further up the bed.

"Thought I was going to have to start decorating for Christmas," the psychiatrist taunted, looking him up and down. Stark’s hands must have been a blur, unwrapping his condom and slipping it on. The inventor wagged a finger at the doctor, tutting. 

"Oh no; you surrendered," he reminded him. "No more of that or I’ll tie you to the bed and leave you here while I go to… meetings." Jonathan scoffed.

"Nah. That’s too boring. You’ll never do it."  The sudden feel of cold, slick fingers pressing against him made him clench and gasp, his breathing becoming ragged. "Oh, you  _dick_ ; you couldn’t have warmed it up first? Christ; this place has underfloor heating but you can’t hold a bottle of lube between your thighs for a minute?”

Stark looked horrified at the prospect. “Uh,  _no_. That’s why I have secretaries.”

Jonathan shook his head, chuckling, and the noise soon gave way to gentle groaning as those skilled fingers went to work, exploring, massaging. The other hand was busy roaming the doctor’s body as it trembled, heaved, shifted under his touch. A slender hand reached for him, too, and he moaned as those fingertips mapped his veins ever so softly. Both men were utterly speechless, finding each other’s gaze and holding it, apparently entranced by the look of sheer  _want_  and  _need_  and  _lust_  they saw there. And slowly but surely they both relaxed, most of the bravado gone, and they were just enjoying this.

Rubbing slick fingers over himself now, Tony positioned himself to penetrate his otherworldly visitor, hands stroking light-fingered patterns into flushed skin.

"Are you waiting for a fucking countdown?" Jonathan breathed, and Stark delighted in the other man’s frustration. 

"I could set a timer if you’re gonna be so pissy about it," he joked, and was rewarded with a pillow to the face. Attempting to soothe his visitor, he leaned in and kissed the spot on which he knew a bruise would form. Jonathan took his chance to touch him again, raking fingernails lazily across a muscular back, curling locks of hair in his fingers, taking in the very texture of Tony Stark as the man kissed and traced such beautiful lines into his ribcage. And when Jonathan was completely relaxed, Tony pressed in, drawing out the most incredible moans from the doctor, whose fingernails began to dig into skin and twist at dark hair, which in turn made the inventor growl with pleasure and push forward in desperation. His strokes were long and deep at first, and Jonathan whimpered and bucked and writhed, trying to encourage him to move faster, harder, and when physical encouragement failed he whispered it almost breathlessly.

"Didn’t we already have a discussion about doctors and patience?" Stark managed with difficulty, his voice shaking, struggling not to just get completely lost in nails making blood flow to the surface, in the pleasured whimpers and whines his multiverse-travelling lover made, in the way those hips met his thrusts as they synchronised. The doctor failed to come up with a response, head tilted back and hands clawing at shoulders, back, ribs as their pace quickened. And there were no more comments, no criticisms, no talking aside from mumbled pleas and broken sentences of approval, both of them lost to one another, their reciprocation, the way they instinctively responded to one another. Tony would later reflect on their incredible sexual compatibility, and momentarily mourn the fact that his ungrateful Irish bastard of a visitor went home.

It was Jonathan who climaxed first, which was just as well because that’s what they’d both been aiming for, and Tony followed shortly after, their moans and approval terribly unsynchronised. That bliss seemed to last both forever and not long enough, and as they held each other in the afterglow, hands searched and rubbed apologetically. At least, Jonathan’s did.

"That is the  _least_  sexy thing, Stark,” he breathed, prodding him in his side. “Just gonna flop on me like a dead fish?” To his credit, the inventor chuckled and managed a lazy trail of kisses across the psychiatrist’s shoulders.

"Can you blame me? I was  _incredible_  back there,” he groaned, tough he was roused when Jonathan spanked him playfully.

"I think you remember it a bit differently than I do."   There was a strange sort of cackle in his voice. "Clearly I was the incredible one."

"You know what? We’ve had our fight, did our challenge, why don’t we meet in the middle? The whole thing was great."

Fingers gently stroked his hair as he rested on the doctor’s chest, nuzzling his neck. “Yeah, alright. We were pretty great.”

"That damn cereal tiger would be jealous right about now."

And for a while they chatted about nothing, actually getting to know one another for a bit before falling helplessly asleep. For Jonathan it was usually the other way around, but surely it counted if he read the comics and watched the movies, right? Right. 

Looking back some time down the line, Jonathan would smirk every time he passed a poster or saw an ad, and Tony Stark would find a tie that didn’t belong to him and remember the time the visitor from another universe came to play and he totally won that sex fight they had.


End file.
